


she is everything

by aghamora



Series: Flaurel Ficlets [27]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She tells him he worries too much. Sometimes Frank doesn’t think he worries <i>enough</i>."</p><p>In the aftermath of Oliver's disappearance, Frank comes to the realization that he can't bear to lose Laurel, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she is everything

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: 'What if Laurel decided to go somewhere and she forgot her phone at home and Frank is all scared and worried and keeps calling her and then she walks into the office unassuming and he runs to her and hugs her so tight and goes "Where the hell were you? Why weren't you answering your phone? Oliver is still missing and you don't answer my call?" And she just apologizes and Frank spends the whole day next to her.'

_Ring, ring, ring, ring._

“C’mon,” Frank urges into the phone, as he paces back and forth in the living room, palms clammy. “Pick up, pick up.”

A click. Then, for what must be the fifteenth time, Laurel’s chipper voicemail comes over the other end:

_Hello. This is Laurel. I’m not able to take your call right now, but leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I-_

With a low growl of frustration, he ends the call and dials again, listening to the empty metallic ringing with a sinking feeling in his gut.

The house is in a state of veritable chaos. Oliver’s missing; nobody has any clue where he is, or if he’s even still alive, but they know it must have something to do with psycho-killer-Phillip who’s still out on the loose. Connor is in the corner of the room panicking, with Wes and Michaela next to him, trying to offer him comfort however they can. Laurel had left an hour ago to get them Chinese takeout for lunch – and now she isn’t answering her phone. And he’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be taking her  _an hour_  to get them food.

And so Frank’s panicking, too. A whole hell of a lot, because maybe Philip got her too, and he’s going to take her to his weird basement torture chamber and kill her too, and that cannot happen; he’d sooner die than see anyone ever lay a single fucking  _finger_ on her.

“Frank?” Bonnie appears beside him out of nowhere, noticing the look of distress on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Laurel,” he tells her, voice unsteady. “She went out an hour ago, and now she’s not answering her phone. Somethin’ must’ve happened to her too.”

“Or she’s just running late,” Bonnie tries to assure him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Fine?” he spits, more harshly than he’d intended. “How the hell do we know that weirdo doesn’t have her too now? Christ, I should’ve just gone with her-”

The sound of the front door opening cuts him off, and Frank spins around as soon as he hears the sound of footsteps clicking on the hardwood floor. The door opens, and then-

In steps Laurel, cartons of Chinese in hand, her cheeks flushed red from the cold and her hair windblown in all directions. It makes him almost dizzy with relief to see her, and he stalks towards her all at once, wrapping his arms around Laurel and almost knocking the food out of her hands, not giving a damn if Bonnie or anyone else sees.

“Jesus, there you are. Where the hell were you?” he demands, pulling back to look at her.

Her eyes flicker with confusion. “The Chinese place. They messed up our order so it took a while. Why, what’s wrong?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” the words come out in a burst. “I called you like twenty times.”

“I… guess I must’ve left it here,” she replies, looking a little bewildered by the frantic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Frank exhales sharply and moves away. “I thought psycho-killer got you too. Don’t scare me like that again.”

He notices Laurel eyeing him strangely without a word, her eyes narrowed. Then, after a moment, she just shakes her head and steps into the living room, setting the food down on the coffee table and trying to entice an inconsolable Connor to eat something – “because Oliver would want you to. He’d want you to take care of yourself, Connor.” But he just pushes it away without saying anything, and stalks off into the kitchen. Michaela and Wes follow like worried hens, leaving Frank alone in the living room with Laurel.

Heavily, he sinks down onto the couch and rubs his hands together. His heart is still thudding madly – because yeah, Laurel’s safe here now, but what if she hadn’t been, and he’d never seen her again, only her mutilated dead body after Phillip was done with her? It’s too dangerous out there for her now, for any of them. After Oliver, all bets are off. No one is safe – and he cannot lose Laurel.

He cannot fucking lose Laurel  _ever_.

His hands are trembling just the tiniest bit, and Laurel notices, walking over and taking a seat beside him with a frown.

“Hey,” she says, as she angles herself towards him and takes his shaking hands in hers. “Frank, it’s okay. _I’m_  okay.”

“Yeah, well, what if he’d followed you and taken you too, huh?” he shoots back, then lowers his voice. “Look, I know I freaked out, but I was really damn scared. I don’t want anyone hurting you, got it? Not ever.”

“No one’s going to,” she urges. He looks away from her, and Laurel reaches out, placing her hands on his cheeks to encourage him to meet her eyes. “Look at me.”

It takes him a moment, but he does, and Laurel gives him a comforting little smile.

“Nothing bad’s going to happen to me. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she tells him firmly. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

“You gotta be more careful. If… you need pepper spray, or a gun-”

“I don’t need a gun!” she scoffs. “I’ll be more careful. And I’ll always make sure to have my phone on me, if it makes you feel better.”

Frank doesn’t answer for a minute. He just looks at her, heart full to bursting, because she’s here, safe, with him, where she belongs, where he needs her. And  _God,_  he does need her; he knows that now. Just the thought of losing her was enough to drive him insane.

“Yeah. Okay,” he relents finally, relaxing back against the sofa. “But you’re staying with me at my place every night ‘til this is over. I gotta know you’re safe.”

“And I will be,” Laurel soothes, as she snuggles herself in at his side. “Don’t worry about me. You worry too much.”

Frank doesn’t say anything. He only watches her as she closes her eyes with a contented little sigh, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. Just watching her, looking at her… She means everything. She  _is_ everything. And he’ll protect her to his last dying breath, even if it kills him, but with all the sketchy stuff they do, and the increasingly dangerous positions she puts herself in these days…

She tells him he worries too much. Sometimes Frank doesn’t think he worries  _enough_.


End file.
